Strawberry Kisses | Tom Holland
Summary: You find yourself on your best friends doorstep for the first time in three weeks after you find your boyfriend cheating.
Warnings: Cheating
Words: 2.7k
A/N: This is a piece based loosely on ‘Little Bird’ by Ed Sheeran for @wayfaring----stranger and @fratboievans writing challenge!! There’s little pieces of the song tucked up in there but I went a little off course :-)
- Moodboard made by the amazing @fratboievans !! It’s so pretty, i love it.
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Rainy days were never a favourite of Toms.
He had thought about it many times before– about why exactly he preferred the sun beating down on his back and layers of fetid sunscreen slapped all over his body and the days of pain if he so much as forgot. There were the ice-cold lemonades and ice pops, racing around his front yard when he was a kid and tripping over rocks and meeting the earth with a harsh thud. Yes, he loved being outdoors whether it was going on a hike or messing around in the pool with Harrison.
But his favourite thing about summer was you. It was just as bright, just as happy.
His eyes locked on the big, aged oak tree on his front yard. The thing hung over his house, leaves shielding any ounce of sunlight from peaking through his front windows. It was the tree with multiple sets of initials carved in the front and roots beginning to rise, saying hello to the never present sunlight.
He had come to the conclusion that the reason he disliked the rainy days so much aside from the obvious reasons were because all of his favourite memories with you began under that oak tree, in the beating sun. The rain was sad, it was dreary, and it was what board the two of you to no extent as children. But on those sunny days you’d share ice creams and count the leaves on each branch, sometimes you’d try and climb it and he’d stand at the bottom in case you fell.
He was so distracted that he nearly missed the sound of someone knocking at the door and on such a cold, dreary day he honestly hadn’t expected anyone. He had locked himself in, built a little nest in front of the tv right beside the fire with Tess. The boy had only got up to flick the jug on so he could grab a cup of tea and maybe a packet of biscuits at that– somehow he’d ended up staring at the oversized oak tree, watching the branches dance with every heavy gust of wind.
That damn tree, and the damn leaves that boarded it and the initials carved into the wood and the– then, you didn’t have a boyfriend. Then, it was just the two of you against the entire world and he was silly enough to think that it’d stay that way forever.
Tom trudged towards the door, sweatpants sagging against the wood as he peeked through the peephole. Tessa whined next to him after forcing herself up off of her spot on the couch
There you stood in the rain, soaking wet hair and clothes and Tom could only assume that you’d walked all the way to his– not a good idea considering the storm brewing outside. Any makeup you’d been wearing was either smudged or gone and you looked distraught, absolutely broken but still, he still recognised you– how could he not? Tom wasted no time in tugging the front door open, meeting your slightly embarrassed and still rather gentle eyes.
After three weeks of not seeing you, he couldn’t forget about the little lines beneath your eyes, and the curl of your lips and just how much he loved you–
“What happened?”
You step into the house immediately to be engulfed by the warmth, the sound of the fire roaring away in the living room competing with the television and the jug that sizzled in the corner of the kitchen. His place hadn’t changed much since you’d last been, the same pictures of the two of you remained on the counter and Tessa's toys were still scattered across the floor.
“He cheated on me.” You mumble.
Tom felt rage flood his veins right away, gritting his teeth as he replied. “He did what?”
“He cheated on me.” You hiccup, feeling sobs sitting in the back of your throat and wrap your arms around your chest tightly. Teeth gutted together as you shivered and not even the warmth in his house could help you. “W-we had a date and he didn’t show up so I went back to our apartment to see if he’d forgotten.” You stop, choking on your words. “He had another girl.”
“Darling–”
“I don’t want pity, Tom, I just… I didn’t know where to go and for some reason you were the only person I could think about.” Maybe you said the words a little harsher then you intended too but you were fucking cold and heartbroken. And you would admit that now you were realising your greatest mistake was getting with Max in the first place.
It wasn’t a lie because after three weeks, he was the only person you could think about and maybe that’s why Max had done what he had because your mind was occupied by the curly haired boy with the biggest heart and the toffee coloured eyes.
Tom sighs, gripping the counter bench to stop himself from going down there and hunting your now (hopefully) ex-boyfriend down. Rainwater dripped down your arms, soaking the clothes that rightfully belonged to Max and you were practically itching to get them off, but they cling to you like a second skin. Tom seemed to notice.
“You need to change or you’ll get sick, go have a shower and uh– borrow some of my clothes, yeah?”
You can only look down at the carpet, little paint stains from the time you two painted the walls and forgot to lay down a mat still scattered the room.
“Thank you.” You breathe out, exhaustion getting the better of you.
He watches you leave, staring at the space between the hallway and his kitchen until he couldn’t see you anymore and glared at the front door. He wanted to leave and show Max a lesson and he would have because you were his best friend, the girl he swore not to let anyone lay a finger on and now you were here and heartbroken.
But he could also stay behind and be there for you now, waiting with a warm cup of tea and a movie the second you get out in a pair of his clothes and offer a shoulder for you to cry on. He could barely think over the kettle that warmed behind him and while the first option was tempting, he–
ping.
Just down the hall, two doors to the left and past the spare room and his study you stood in Toms bedroom, staring in the body length mirror as you tugged the shirt down over the sweatpants. The dark blue shirt and black sweats were definitely mismatched but you didn’t think twice. They were comfortable, doused in his cologne and it was better than anything you remembered.
You did a small twirl, extending your arms out and tried not to focus on the fact that the area beneath your eyes was slightly puffy and your heart was quite practically shattered. Your wet hair stuck to your cheeks, toes melting into the bedroom rug. You nearly forgot how comfortable his place made you.
It was homely. It was easily the place you’d always find yourself going back to time and time again.
-
“Do you feel any better?”
Tom offers a cup of tea and you take it, practically melting into his clothing. “I’m definitely not as cold anymore.” Laughing lightly, you rest the mug on the bench and begin to bob the tea bag up and down– it gave you something to fiddle with. “I just can’t believe I saw it, you know?”
Tom bit his tongue from uttering those words he wanted to say so badly- I told you so.
“You don’t deserve that and he doesn’t deserve you, he just isn’t the one.” Tom sighs and takes the tea from you, chucking the used bag into the bin. “I hope you plan on kicking his ass out of your apartment.”
You scoff, bringing the mug to your lips. “Already done, if he was even listening to me then he should be out by morning.”
“You can stay here tonight.”
“Thank you.” You smile warmly, biting back tears.
Things were briefly awkward between both of you, though you’d forgotten what your last words to one another were three weeks ago and what the stupid argument was about.
You knew as well as Tom did that you didn’t deserve this, for things to go down with Max as badly as they had but one thing you had to wonder was if it was your fault that he did what he did. Were you not making him happy? Could you have been doing more?
While you debated that, Tom stared lovingly and if you caught him then he would’ve been embarrassed, cheeks flushing a firetruck red but you were too deep in thought. Offering you to stay wasn’t that big of a deal but now Tom felt that it was, you used to do that all the time before Max. Sometimes you’d even share a bed.
There was the one time you two kissed. He thought that the feelings of utter adoration and fondness were shared and maybe they were. He definitely felt them, and he definitely remembered the way your lips tasted like strawberries but he didn’t know if it was your lipgloss or the alcohol and he never got to ask. He remembered how gentle his hands were flush against your cheeks, and how his heart practically broke when you left his apartment for a date the very next day.
He thought that maybe you were too drunk to remember your shared kiss and let it go, but truthfully you did remember and your date was a distraction because surely he didn’t share the feelings you felt towards him, right?
“Let’s go sit down, yeah?” He offers, carrying his own mug as well as the television remote in one hand.
You don’t answer but simply reply with a nod and look in awe at the little nest he’d created for himself. It was a bundle of blankets and snacks, something you both used to build on rainy days. You both snuggle beneath the blankets, both a little closer than necessary and no words needed to be spoken for him to wrap an arm around you, pulling you closer comfortingly– because that was all this was, he was comforting you.
“Tommy?” You hum softly, peaking up through the mug of scalding tea. Your voice was still damaged, cracking between words and sighs. “Thank you.”
The bags beneath your eyes were obvious and he noticed the weakness in your voice. Tom gave a sad smile, the corners of his lips barely peeking up. He hated seeing his best friend like this. “You don’t have to say thank you, I’m your best friend, aren’t I? I’m here for you no matter what.”
He pulled the friendship card once more and too distracted by his own harrowing remorse, Tom barely noticed the makeup the stained the shoulder of his grey tee.
In the back of his mind Tom was thinking ‘I told you so’ Because fuck, he told you so. He told you Max would break your heart and that the guy was untrustworthy straight from the start. He knew Max’s type and knew the guys track record but you didn’t listen. But the thing was, you did listen. You listened to him rant and rave and ramble about the guy all while thinking; ‘If you don’t want me with him then make me yours, goddamnit!’
“Earlier I was thinking about how all guys are assholes, but not you, definitely not you.” You sniffle. Any anger you’d been feeling earlier had dispersed but you were still thinking about the moment you saw Max’s lips on hers and that hand that sat on her waist– for some reason you weren’t surprised, shocked maybe but not surprised. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
You knew from the start that Tom would never hurt you that way– or at all.
Tom chuckles lightly, chest vibrating against the side of your head and your fingers continue to run little patterns and designs over his clothed abdomen.
“I try my best for you, darling.” He resists the urge to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, not wanting to press the boundaries. “There are good guys everywhere, you just happened to stumble across a roach. You never know, your prince charming could be closer then you think.”
He was guilty of talking about himself.
“You think so?”
He nods his head, wild curls brushing against his forehead. “Remember your worth, there is someone out there that’s perfect for you. And someone that’s willing to give you the entire world.”
Silence sat among the two of you while the little whimpers that escaped Tessa were few and far between. She herself was warm, cuddled up on the living room rug. You doubted that the blanket was necessary considering Tom was practically a furnace, providing enough heat to keep your shivers at bay but the blanket provided extra comfort.
Not even twenty minutes later you’d finished your cup of tea and the empty mug was sitting on the coffee table next to Toms. It’d been a while since he’d seen that mug– the one you claimed to be your favourite sitting next to his and he realised how he’d missed it, missed you. He couldn’t help but be pleased that you were back in his arms, fitting perfectly just like two pieces of a puzzle. He gazes down, finding your eyes shut loosely and mouth hanging open gently against his chest, more so on his shoulder.
Your phone vibrates on the edge of the blanket, coming to life as multiple texts and missed calls come up on the screen. They were all reasonably short, one to two line texts that read just as Tom was expecting. The typical, ‘I didn’t mean it’ texts and ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘Come back home’ and ‘I got you your favourite flowers.’ He groans quietly and shifts gently so he doesn’t you wake up, extending an arm to grab the phone.
His finger goes straight to the do not disturb button but doesn’t go that far. It hovers over the ‘view’ button and he knows he shouldn’t. Tom didn’t know if what he did was the right thing to do but he wanted to do more– he could have. Texting Max back off of his own phone was possibly one of the bad things in a long list of things he could’ve done to handle the situation. But Tom knew your password– no, he had his print in your phone just as you had yours in his.
‘Back the hell off or you’ll be dealing with me.’
He finished by signing his name at the end.
At that moment, for a split second, he wanted to get up and beat the shit out of the guy that had torn your heart into pieces and brought you here. Don’t get it wrong, Tom loved having you tucked under his arm dressed comfortably in one of his hoodies while the rain pelted against the roof of the house.
But it was a different story when tear tracks ran down your cheeks– it was a different story when you clung to him with a grip that showed just how scared you were that he was going to be the next to leave.
If you didn’t look so broken, scared and in need of a little love as you did just then he swore he could have gone over and made Max’s life hell. He could have and he would have. But he wanted to savour this moment– having you so close and flush against him.
He had to think about how you looked better in his clothes instead of Max’s, and how his clothes only made him more fucking in love with you– drop it, Tom.
Delicately, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face and only hoped that the reruns of friends wouldn’t wake you up from your sleep, because for the first time that night you looked utterly pain-free and content.
Somehow, a light smudge of lipstick was left on the corner of your lips and Tom smiled, swearing that he'd recognise that colour everywhere. It was the same strawberry lipstick you wore the night you kissed.
“My little bird.”
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